Different
by SignsofSam
Summary: Blaine splits his life into two parts, and it has to do with Kurt. Memories from before Kurt, and memories from after.


**Title:** Different (or how Kurt Hummel changed Blaine Anderson's Life)

**Summary:** Blaine splits his life into two parts, and it has to do with Kurt. Memories from before Kurt, and memories from after. He doesn't really label them, but if he did, he'd label the sans-Kurt memories "back then" and the ones with Kurt "now", because they are.

**Word Count:** ~1500

**Disclaimer:** Um, yeah. So, I'm a girl, and my name's not Ryan Murphy, so it should be totally obvious that I don't own _Glee_. But if I did, we'd be calling it _Blaine and the Pips_, so yeah, we know what it would be all about…

**Spoilers:** ugh, Prom episode, maybe? But not really.

**Rating:** R-ish

**Author's Notes: **So, this is different for me. It's written in both past and present tense, and it's…I don't know, a weird format. I happen to really like how it turned out though (except the last paragraph, because it's a little cheesy), and I got to use the word _nay_, which just made joy blossom in my soul. Feedback is love!

**Different**

Blaine splits his life into two parts, and it has to do with Kurt. Memories from before Kurt, and memories from after. He doesn't really label them, but if he did, he'd label the sans-Kurt memories "back then" and the ones with Kurt "now", because they are.

Back then, he was scared entering the doors of his public school. He was fourteen, closeted, and scared of the senior jocks that just looked so much bigger and taller than him. They made fun of him in spite of the secret they didn't know: he was a freshman, he was short, and he had unruly curly hair that hung in his face and was apparently a magnet for huge wads of Double Bubble.

But now, walking through McKinley High School's front doors as a student, and as a _student_, he doesn't feel scared. He's seventeen, a senior, and he's not afraid of someone bigger and taller than him. It also helps that he's walking hand-in-hand with the most gorgeous guy in the world, Kurt talking a mile a minute about some play in Columbus that he wants to go see this upcoming weekend. Blaine just smiles, and tightens his hold on Kurt's hand.

Back then, when he came out of the closet, he could always hear them as he passed them in the hall. _Fag, queer, fairy_. He _hated _those words. He hated the fists that usually went flying with those words, the shoves into the locker, the tripping, the shoving, the wads of wet paper that would hit his face. He hated the phone calls at midnight that made his Dad slam the phone down, or how they use to write those words on his locker. And he hated the fact that he had no one—_no one_—to help him through it, because he was a fag, because he was queer, because he was _gay._

But now, as he's standing by his locker, flipping through Othello, he feels Azimo shoving him, his back smacking into the metal lockers. He hears Azimo laugh out, "what a queer", and it's not just him that reacts. It's Mike, coming from down the hall, and Sam and Coach Bieste, and _Santana_ with her fiery Spanish and Lima Heights Adjacent attitude. It's a small force of friends surrounding him, a barrier between him and the hate, and it means he's not alone (especially when Mike shoves Azimo and says something about "having no regrets about cutting a mother"), and it's not just Kurt he's got watching his back. (It's not just the New Directions crew, either. One call, and Wes would be bringing the whole of the Warbler's bad-ass-ness—nay, _Dalton's_ bad-ass-ness—to McKinley.)

Back then, he never would have talked back to his tormentors. That tended to end in bruises and cuts for Blaine, and his father's voice fading off as he walked into the house, his head down, hands clinched tightly into the strap of his bag.

But now, when he's changing after soccer practice and he hears someone snap "what are you doing here, _fag_?" he doesn't even flinch. Sure, his hands tighten on the balled-up shirt he's about to throw into his bag, and he takes a breath, but he doesn't even look at them. He takes a minute to get composed, and he continues on with what he was doing, casually answering "Well, I'm getting dressed, and it's not a free show, so why don't you two just scurry off somewhere else?

"But I thought you liked guys to watch, fairy," Karofsky says, nodding and fist-bumping Azimo, like he was looking to be congratulated on his repertoire of witty comebacks. Blaine raises his eyebrow, finally pulling on the black polo he'd been wearing that day. He doesn't answer until he's completely done, ready to leave, and then he pulls a wicked smirk, and answers back, "Not guys, Dave. I like _Kurt_ to watch. But if you'd like to talk to him about a threesome, be my guest" and he leaves, still smiling, as the two jocks stand there dumbfounded,

Back then, he went to the Sadie Hawkins Dance with Jason and they danced and had fun and then were assaulted when they were leaving. He went to Junior Prom with Kurt and watched Kurt's _classmates_ vote him Prom Queen because they didn't understand him, because he was different. He spent _hours _in a hospital and _minutes _in a hall, trying to figure out exactly_ why_ people hated people like Blaine so much.

But now, as he unbuttons each of the little white pearly buttons on Kurt's shirt, it's the happiness of their senior prom that envelopes them. There's no crown this time, and no scepter (though there was _definitely_ some dancing to "Dancing Queen"); there's only Kurt and Blaine and a hotel room with lit candles and rose petals. And sure, it's a little cheesy, a hotel room on prom night, but for Blaine, it's memorable. He's going to remember the kisses as they danced, slow and soft and in time with the music, and he's going to remember singing with Rachel and Finn and showing up Puck on the dance floor. He's going to remember the way Kurt's finger's wrapped around his wrist as Figgins announced Prom Queen and the sigh of relief when Kurt's name wasn't called. He's going to remember the way Kurt's smile lit his face as he opened the doors to the hotel room. He's going to remember Kurt's moans and the tightening of fingers on his neck, the small half-moon welts that will be there in the morning from Kurt's nails. He's not going to remember blood or tears or sorrow on his Senior Prom, he's going to remember Kurt and how he breathes out Blaine's name into the crook of his neck as he comes.

Back then, there was no glee. He was too frightened of his secret coming out, of being tormented for more than he usually was. Because on top of being a freshman, of being new, of being _short_, being gay at his school probably ranks up there close to getting pregnant in terms of stuff you were bullied for. Because unlike at Dalton, kids in glee at his old school weren't rock stars. They were teased, and they were bullied, and Blaine couldn't deal with more than he already had too.

But now, he's in California, in Los Angeles, singing a duet in front of a packed audience, and he can feel Kurt beside him, singing right along with him. This year, they totally _owned_ the duets competition, and now they were singing their song at _Nationals_. Somewhere in that dark audience are Daniel and Burt and Carole (Daniel had a client that had a house in LA and had mysteriously had two _extra_ plane tickets to LA and though Burt had this thing against anybody giving him anything, this was Kurt's senior year and the only time he'd get the chance to see his kid sing in LA), and somewhere backstage, the Warblers are rehearsing (because somehow—a miracle because Wes _went to church and prayed and promised to give up his gavel_ if you listened to David—beat both Vocal Adrenaline and Aural Intensity and made it to Nationals). He's got all these people he cares about watching him, and he's belting out the lyrics like a pro because, let's face it, Kurt (and Dalton…well, mostly Dalton, but alas) turned the shy, meek freshman into one bad ass rock star.

Back then, he wasn't sure if he'd graduate, if he'd make it that long. Because his life was hell, and he was tired. Tired of getting yelled at, screamed at, made fun of. Tired of getting shoved, pushed, tripped. Tired of trying to explain that gay wasn't bad and that he wasn't going to hell for his choices. He was tired.

But now, he's got Kurt, who he's watching walk across the stage to shake hands with Figgins and grab his diploma. He's got more friend from the past three years at the graduation ceremony than friends from his first fourteen years (half of them are sitting in the stands with dorky **I Heart Klaine** shirts on, those damn Warblers). He's found something he's totally passionate about (um, Nationals win anyone?) and he knows that he's going to be doing it for years to come. He knows now that life gets better, you just have to give it some time and keep trekking through the shitty parts to find the good.

So yeah, Blaine Anderson splits his life up between back then and now, but honestly, why wouldn't he? Now, he is totally different from the person he was back then, and he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
